Between Rage and Serenity
by BlueBastard
Summary: The usual argument treads down unfamiliar paths. The safe road may no longer be an option, as a determined Erik convinces a wary Charles. Erik/Charles M/M SLASH
1. Chapter 1

Title: Between Rage and Serenity

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor profit from X-men First Class in the making of this fanfic.

Summary: The usual argument treads down unfamiliar paths. The safe road may no longer be an option, as a determined Erik convinces a wary Charles. Erik/Charles M/M SLASH

-BB-BB-BB-

"You can't change me, Charles." Erik stated, hands clasped behind him as he stared out the Xavier mansion window. It was an old, fruitless argument. And the Jewish mutant grew weary of it.

He tried to turn his attention to the world beyond the glass.

The world that should be theirs. Not in the hands of the primitive humans. If only Charles could acknowledge this simple fact of evolution. Mutants were the new breed. The new race at the top of the food chain.

The humans faced their own extinction.

"You mistake my motives, Erik. It was never my intention to change you. Your past, no matter how pained or traumatic, has shaped who you are today." Charles spoke in the way only Charles could. Wise and moving that defied his youthful years, "It shapes your thoughts, your reasoning, as well as your reaction to any given situation. To change you I would have to change your true self. You would not be the young man standing before me today. And that would just not do."

Erik turned to the auburn haired man with a tilted smirk. Riddles. Always riddles with this one.

He faked exasperation as he demanded, "Can I never get a straight answer from you, Charles?"

The twinkle sparked in those blue eyes -unspoken laughter- as Xavier commented, "Perhaps if you asked the right questions, Erik."

"And those would be...?" Erik prompted, impatient as ever, though he couldn't help the upward curl of a lip as he did so. This was a side of himself he never knew existed. It was always hidden guards, clever cunning, and deadly manipulation. And anger. So much pained anger. Not this... this strange playfulness deep inside.

Charles always brought out the best in him.

Like those cherished memories of his mother he had thought lost forever so long ago.

"Aw Erik, you'll spoil the fun if you inquire such blunt questions." The blue-eyed telepath smirked, turning back to the window that spanned the entire wall, "Besides, the man who seeks answers ultimately finds himself faced with more questions."

He never did truly believe Erik would figure it out. Their friendship was just too... platonic. He desired from Erik what Raven -who was lucky enough to be stuck in the puberty stage twice as long as the average teenager- used to desire from Charles himself.

And for all his brains and telepathic abilities, Charles couldn't figure the dark-haired man out.

Or rather, he was too afraid to reach further within the depths of Erik's mind, should he find a hopeless answer to his aching question. When he had been younger, it had been child's play to delve into the deep dark crevices of a person's mind. But Xavier had been born with ten times the intellect and morals of an aged Buddhist monk. He knew it was wrong since the age of two. And had therefore never strayed too far past the surface thoughts of those around him. Of course he had to build up an immunity to thoughts projected loud enough to mimic a foghorn amplified by a thousand, but it took practice. And now and then those thoughts still slipped through the cracks.

But there was more to it than simple morals.

More than respect for the individual alone.

Could Erik love him... truly love him... in that way?

Or was this closeness mere bonds of brotherhood? One lonely, desperate soul seeking another? Sure, Charles was always the one rescuing and sheltering others. Raven, his now adopted little sister, being a prime example.

But in this single instance, with the metallic fire that was purely Erik, he felt as if it was HE that had been rescued.

He didn't expect, however, for Erik's fuse to be so short today.

It all happened so suddenly.

Breathless, Charles found himself pinned by the sharply dressed Erik Lansherr. Erik's hard lines pressed against his front, as the solid mahogany wall pressed at his back. A surge of heat shot straight to the telepath's core, adding another tally to his list of guilty pleasures concerning a certain metal-manipulator. He bit his lip to stop the needy little moan that had wanted to slip out. His guard always slipped around the other. His control frayed.

It was quite... infuriarating.

The telepath had respected the boundaries of Erik's mind since that day on the beach. It wasn't because of the near paralysis of his legs, the bullet grazing just a centimeter to the side of his spine, but the mere fact that he had tried to stay distant.

Erik Lansherr was a dynamite ready to explode. He did not want to experience the pain he had that day ever again.

He might have seen this move otherwise, and stepped aside to avoid it.

Contact with the darker haired man was too... perilous.

"You test my patience in so many ways, Charles. Enough of this dance. What is it you're keeping from me?" Erik would never hurt him. Ever since that fateful night in the water, Charles had been saving Erik. Saving his life.

His very soul.

There was no question about it.

Charles Xavier was the only mutant, no the only living person in the entire world, that made Erik feel like he was cared for.

That there was more to being alive than just anger and vengeance. That there was a place between rage and serenity, that would make him better. Stronger. Whole again.

The only one that made Erik laugh.

And he would go through the Nazi hell again and back before he'd allow Charles to get away. Even if the distance was solely mental rather than physical. The metal-manipulator raked his piercing gaze over the smooth lined of Xavier's face. Innocent blue eyes, weathered and sullied by dark thoughts of killers and murderers alike, still managed to maintain it's aura of innocence.

A purity that was simply... Charles.

On the receiving end of that soul-searching gaze, the telepath shifted nervously.

Charles, for the first time, squirmed in Erik's presence.

Erik was taken aback. Not to mention secretly pleased.

Charles Xavier was actually... unsure. And that was almost as deliciously tantalizing, as the way the younger held his own bottom lip prisoner by a flash of those delicate white teeth. It wasn't often that Erik felt himself ahead of the other. Psychic abilities be damned. And like he'll he would waste such a perfect opportunity to gloat about it.

"You *are* hiding something from me..." Erik frowned, suspicions confirmed.

"It is nothing, Erik." Charles evaded, blue eyes drifting to the side.

Feeling the tendrils of the telepath's mind, perhaps Charles's persuasion activated subconsciously in his own defense -for Erik knew he would never do it purposefully on him- Erik smirked, "That won't work on me, Charles. Never has, never will."

Sheepish, Charles withdrew his mind, apologetic, "Sorry. Habit. You have a strong mind, my friend."

Charles fidgeted under that intense gaze. He had thought himself immune, but apparently Erik had never used it on him before. At least, not in full.

Charles daren't breath.

Each inhale would draw in the masculine scent of metal and warmth that was Erik. Each exhale pressing his pinned body more against the hardened steel of Lansherr's unmoving body. It was more than enough to make the telepath's breath hitch, his mind on overdrive to keep a certain part of his heated anatomy down. There was no doubt, at such close proximity, he would be discovered.

When the uncomfortable silence continued, Charles cleared his throat, "You can release me now, Erik, and we can talk."

Observing the nervousness on his friend's countenance, Erik merely smirked, "No. I don't think I will, Charles."

Now Erik was a smart man. Through sheer will and determination he had become a mad genius and a challenging strategist to even the telepath's skill. So when Charles's face began the flush at this simple bodily contact, and Erik's own refusal to let go, well...

The equation practically solved itself.

But Erik just couldn't believe...

Could it truly be that...

But from Charles, of all people? No. Erik's mind just couldn't grasp the concept.

The one thing that he desired more in the world, the one thing he had believed utterly unattainable...

He needed to hear it.

Needed to hear the words.

"What's the matter, Charles?" Erik grinned devilishly, covering up his rising hope with suave charm. Something he never thought to use on the younger man before. Something he never *dared* use before.

To his utter amazement, and inner carnal pleasure, he saw Xavier's cheeks flush a pleasant shade of red. Just slightly. But it was there.

Charles was just as stunned.

He had watched from the sidelines, as Erik easily picked up girls from the bars. Even better than Charles himself. And that was saying something. But that had just been it.

Just girls.

And while Charles had eased off bedding random strangers -of both sorts, women and men- since he met Erik, it seemed the other was nigh insatiable. A different girl every night. Actually, now it numbered more girls than there were nights in a week at times.

He had never dreamed...

All right. That was a complete falsehood.

Almost every night he did.

For that reason alone he only had his hand as solace for the times the need grew unbearable.

"You understand I can make you let go of me, if I so choose." Charles smirked, attempting to grasp at any straws in his ever-sinking predicament.

Erik was not fooled.

"I know you can *try*, Charles..." Erik's chuckle was a sinful baritone, plucking easily at the tendrils of Xavier's normally steady resolve. Charles couldn't help the shiver of arousal that spiked through him. Not with how close their bodies were. Not with the way Erik's voice had dropped an octave, simply saying his name. Like a velvet caress. As dangerous as the apple that had tempted Eve.

He knew. Charles felt his throat constrict.

Erik *knew*.

The look in his stormy grey eyes told all.

And for the life of him, Charles couldn't decide whether this was for good or ill.

In a move that surprised them both, Charles suddenly shoved the taller man away. For good measure, he had even taken a few steps from both Erik and the wall. It lacked Charles' calm, controlled finesse, but it got the job done.

He had heard her the essence of her thoughts before a knock sounded at the closed doors.

Erik's look of irritated surprise would have to wait as Charles turned towards the doors, the heavy oak creaking open as a blue head poked through, the other becoming more comfortable in her natural beauty.

"Dinner time, you two geezers." Mystique said simply, before disappearing as gracefully as she had come. Her voice echoed her innocently oblivious footsteps, "Don't keep us waiting. I am *not* warming up leftovers because you two decided to make out instead of joining us."

Her joking hit closer to home than she could ever realize.

The energy in the room had not dispersed at her interruption. Rather, it crackled and fizzed like a live thing, becoming more tense and coiled in the following silence.

Not knowing what to say, Charles chose his most ideal option.

Retreat.

Without a glance back, he started heading towards the door, "Well, you heard Raven. I, for one, do not enjoy a cold plate in my pallet." His attempt at light humor, he feared, was as weak and see-through as his shaken resolve. His resolve to tread the safe path. To stick to the relative safety of their friendship, rather than delve deeper into the unknown, with the unpredictable -yet undeniably desirable- silent figure behind him.

"Charles." That voice, laced with deep velvet promises, stopped him in his tracks. Erik had a way with words. He had a way of making lesser men quiver. Shake in their boots. Charles was none of that. Though he had to admit, the insufferable man was quite intimidating at times. And that tone did... strange things when Charles heard it. Erik sounded frustratingly incredulous as he stated, "You can't just will this away, Charles."

Charles couldn't stay. Couldn't face the rugged man on even ground. Not right now. He feared this would break him.

So he continued walking, stating with feigned nonchalance, "Will what away, Lansherr? I doubt you even know what *this* is, exactly." But that blue eyed gaze was directed pointedly in front of him, not daring to look back.

Erik frowned at the other's cowardice. Charles was not a weak individual. He was, in fact, the strongest and brightest the metal-manipulator had ever come across.

It could only mean one thing.

Charles Xavier, the very man he owed his life to, was scared.

But of what?

Abandoning his statuesque post against the wall, meaningless now without the other to preoccupy himself with, Erik strolled with precisely measured control. Though every fiber of his being was coiled and ready to ravish the younger man to the ground. He had waited a few years. What was a couple more days?

He smirked.

So Charles wanted to play? He would soon learn, as he had the first time they played chess, that Erik Lansherr was not an opponent to be taken lightly. 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own nor profit from X-men First Class nor any of its affiliates or franchise.

A/N: Once again, I do not know if I should be posting this, seeing as I'm taking off from writing for quite a while. Enjoy this bit.

-o-o-o-

Erik Lansherr was a stubborn man.

Charles Xavier was the poor soul unlucky enough to rediscover this, even as he attempted to proceed with dinner like normal.

If only Erik would leave him alone.

Charles was speaking jovially with Raven, seated at his right, when out of nowhere a searing image assaulted his cortex. Lansherr, down on his knees, with his mouth on Xavier's-

The telepath choked on his salad, flushing a slight dusting of pink across his cheeks, as he shot a scathing glance across the table at the smirking metal bender, who seemed very busy with his steak platter.

'ERIK.' Charles admonished, frowning in the metal bender's mind. He rarely ever used telepathic speech when it was unwarranted. And someone loudly projecting an image as obscene as that at him, over *dinner* with the children for christ'sake, was definitely something to-

'*CHARLES*' Erik Lansherr's mental reply cut through Xavier's thoughts like hot steel through putty, a mental brow raised as that sinfully gravelly tone -dipped as though Erik meant to devour him- made a shiver go down Charles' spine.

'Stop this Erik.' Xavier shot a hardened look at the metal bender, even as he assured Raven he was all right, straightening his salad plate and drinking a glass of water to help the previously lodged grape tomato go down.

'Will you tell me what you *insist* on hiding from me?' Erik inquired with a low drawl, amusement creeping into his voice. The tone of a victor when he saw his spoils coming near. The dark haired man was always arrogant. Always smug. It was a quality that had always worked in Charles' favor before. The solid foundation when the telepath found himself wavering. The necessary ammo when Charles found himself with nowhere to turn.

The sinful, burning need that consumed Charles every night.

To have that skilled metal manipulator in bed. Have those strong hands all over him, pinning him down. Have that hot mouth in places that it needed to be.

Xavier swallowed, feeling Erik's eyes drilling holes into him, though he had refused to look at him through the whole evening prior to dinner.

He wanted it. Needed it so badly. But he was not willing to lose the one person he cared for the most in this world. He could not risk their friendship over this.

Charles flicked his resolve filled blue eyes, 'I will not.'

Xavier could almost feel the fire under the metal manipulator's skin, Erik Lansherr growing rigid in his seat at Xavier's response.

But then Erik seemed to relax, stretching with a lazy, sure grin as he rumbled mentally, 'Then I. Will. NOT. Stop. I will *never* stop. You can count on it, Charles.'

It was the telepath's turn to bristle, as he stated in mental exasperation, 'You are as stubborn and tenacious as you are foolhardy, Erik Lansherr. And you lack the unfortunate wisdom to know just when to call it quits.'

'I NEVER call it quits, Charles. You of all people know that...' Erik shifted forward in his seat, eyes intense behind steepled fingers as he added with a growl, 'Not until I get what I want.'

'Then you will be playing for a long time,' Charles chuckled, eyes flashing as he stated, 'I do not lose so easily.'

'And I never lose.'

'So sure are we?'

'*YES*.'

'...' Xavier had no true response to this, and merely left it at that. A part of him shrank back at the other's frank confidence. The other reveled the challenge.

-o-o-o-

Charles had made the extra effort to never to be caught alone with the dangerous man. And he had been successful for weeks, something that frustrated Erik to no end.

There were certain advantages to being a telepath. Knowing where and when someone was going to be in a room was one of them. He knew the first time Erik walked in with Charles conversing with his kid sister, Lansherr had believed it to be a coincidence. But the next several times Erik realized this to not be the case, and hid his internal irritation well through his outwardly clipped tones, yet calm features.

Anytime Lansherr asked if Xavier could speak to him alone, Charles had always declared he was too busy. Always with a little crinkled smile which, while Erik did find endearing, would make Lansherr all the more irked and determined to drive the smaller man into a corner from which he could not weasel his way out of.

Which is why, when Charles heard the door lock behind him, and with the sudden overwhelming sense of Erik's presence, did his chest constrict and he turned with a small gasp of disbelief.

"Erik...?" Charles questioned as he turned from his view of the courtyard, wondering how the other had managed to evade detection.

Then he saw the culprit in the form of a specially obtained helmet, which Erik had just took off and was now smirking as he placed it on the end table by the door.

Oh how the tables turned. Seemed Erik Lansherr was one to play dirty as long as he could use it to his advantage.

"Charles..." He said the name as he always did, slightly admonishing though wonderfully rumbled in silk and sin. Erik looked up from the helmet, straightening his suit smartly before waving two fingers to lock the deadbolt behind him with a deafening click, "We need to talk."

Charles felt his brain stall, eyes on his escape behind Erik, before he jump started it, forcing himself to go through all possible moves and tactics to gain the upper hand, "I don't know what you believe we need to discuss, Erik, but as I've said before, I am-"

"Busy, yes I know. Talking to Raven, or the children, or collaborating some event or another. Or even something as important as this: staring at flowers and vines blooming outside the window." Erik growled, cutting the man off as he stalked forward. He received a small thrill in watching the normally calm telepath, stumble as he took a few steps to evade the metal manipulator, placing the couch between them. Almost as if it had been afterthought. An accident. Erik followed, stalking Xavier step for step as they circled the couch, "Busy with everything and everyone that wasn't me. I'm not as dim as everyone else you bother yourself with, Charles. Who do you think you're fooling?"

"No one." Charles said with a frown, taking one more step to the side, mirroring Erik's move.

"It's pointless to lie to me, Charles. I would advise against it, to save you time." Erik stated matter-of-fact, stopping in their dance to simply glower at the telepath across their small barrier. He could simply levitate the metal frame of the couch and smash it through the window, should he wish. But that would ruin the game. And how Erik *loved* playing games against Charles, the only worthy opponent. He caught Xavier's gaze straying to the locked door, the only escape from the small library. A hidden alcove in the Xavier manor.

Charles knew all the hidden places. Unfortunately for him, so did Erik.

"I'm not lying." Even as Charles said it, he knew Erik could tell. They both knew the words were a bold faced lie. And Xavier was avoiding Lansherr's gaze again, baby blues shifting up to the ceiling, then down to his hands. Fingers nervously fumbling with each other.

Again. Adorable. But Erik needed to refocus the game. He didn't appreciate this whole avoiding thing Charles had going against him.

Erik sighed, leaning forward on the side of the couch, grinning slightly as Charles leaned slightly back. Lansherr drawled, "You can try for the door, but you'll never make it."

That drew the telepath's attention, beautiful blues riveted to enticing brown, that knowing smirk making dark promises that made Xavier's knees weak.

"...what?" Charles asked offhandedly, throat suddenly dry. He felt like he was parroting the question, suddenly understanding how a mouse would feel under a cobra's gaze. Frozen, as though all routes of escape were already lost.

"You can try." Erik smilingly obliged, his gaze darkening as he leaned forward, overcast by his sharp brow as he tilted slightly downward to meet Charles' wavering gaze, "But... you will. Not. Make it."

Xavier forced his parched throat to function as he cleared his throat, "I could if used my immeasurable ability to freeze you solid on the spot."

"As could I, Charles. I see you have your favored cuff links today. Metal, aren't they? Among other things." Lansherr chuckled, tilting his head sideways as he concluded, "Even as you've graciously limited your own abilities in our little game, I don't think bringing mines into play would be very fair, now would it?"

Charles chuckled, even as he felt his options dwindling, "Indeed. Touché Erik. Brilliantly played."

He took a moment to adjust his collar, straightening his sleeves even as he decidedly did NOT take off the cuff links, "Now what is it you wanted to talk about?"

"Cute, Charles. Really. But you know what it is I want to hear."

Charles frowned, managing to look puzzled as he leaned back on the back of his heels, hands shoved in his pockets to hide their nervous twitches, "Do I?"

"Cat got your tongue? Never thought I'd live to see the day Charles Xavier at a loss for words." Erik, likewise, stood back. Momentarily relinquishing his position against the armrest of the couch. Much to Charles' hidden relief. Proximity was definitely a dangerous factor with the metal manipulator. It was almost as if Erik generated his own heat, at least more than normal. Or maybe it was just due to his own, fatal attraction to the devilishly handsome man.

"My friend, I am never at a loss for words. I can tell you anything you want to hear." Charles Xavier grinned dashingly, a feat that swooned many men and women alike, and one that managed to drag a tilted grin on the darker haired man's chiseled features. Charles strolled casually along the length of the couch, daring to get closer to the other, "I can tell you how good of a strategist you are. How amazing your talent is growing with each passing day. How many acres this Manor actually occupies." Charles stopped at the edge of the couch, keeping the corner between them, enjoying how much darker Lansherr's gaze became as he drew nearer, tracking the telepath's every move as though in memorization.

Charles paused, to run his finger slowly across the top of the couch, feeling the heat of Lansherr's intense gaze as he lowered his voice, his own eyes on the fuzzy surface, following his manicured nail, "I can tell you, just..." His finger trailed closer and closer to the metal bender, who had absentmindedly placed his own fist on the juncture of the armrest while the other pressed decidedly against the corner, leaning his weight forward, "how many hairs..." Charles' finger trailed centimeters from Erik's tense knuckles, pausing at the corner of the couch, to glance up at Erik through lowered lashes, "are standing at edge right now across your skin..."

Erik met his gaze with one hot enough to melt the ice. He was so still Charles doubted the man even took a breath. Xavier knew he was playing with fire. But he couldn't help it. He leaned closer, more daring still as he gave a small grin, whispering, "But I cannot... and will not... confide with you the one thing you believe you would like to hear."

There was a stillness between them. Erik's breath was shaky, their faces and bodies so close the couch was almost nonexistent. Charles forced himself away with a small laugh, ordering his tense muscles to relax as he drew back, "But with everything else, fair game."

Taking a step back was almost physical agony, as Charles turned away, shrugging casually, "So fire away, Lansherr. What would you like to hear?"

He had barely taken two steps.

Suddenly he was shoved against the back of the couch, bent arms keeping himself upright against the top of the cushions, front pressed full against the hard lines of a shivering metal bender.

The movement had been so fast, a breath was like an afterthought. Charles was so confident, so daring one moment, only to be reduced to a frozen mass, anxiously awaiting what move Lansherr would pull next. Erik took his time to inhale deeply, the earthy and book scent of the telepath before him. He had his own, muscled arms on either side of the tantalizing, curly haired man's suited hips. It was his turn to shutter his heated gaze on the frozen man trapped before him, his growl near rabid as he nipped huskily, "You play a dangerous game, Charles. I don't want to hear anything, really, other than what sounds I can make slip past those lips of yours." He enjoyed the hitch of that blue eyed wonder, catching those orbs flicker uncertainly to Erik's own lips, before leaning back as Charles looked warily back up at his dark, smoldering gaze.

"The only sound you'll hear from my lips is NO." Charles murmured disapprovingly, leveling Erik with a hardened gaze.

"Oh really?" Lansherr smirked, unperturbed, "Care to test that theory, Professor?"

"Not really, no- mmf!"

Kissing was supposed to be an art. The fine meddling of two lips joined as one. On multiple occasions, with women and men, Charles had always been the aggressor. He would never allow another to dominate him. It wasn't quite a weakness, so much as a preference.

Being kissed by this man, however, was vastly different.

Being kissed by Erik Lansherr was like being consumed by fire.

Charles felt like he was melting on the spot. Those hardened lips devoured his like the man was starved. Xavier sagged against the couch, his arms nor legs able to support his weight under the onslaught. It wasn't until he felt the smirk on Erik's lips that he even realized what was happening.

On compulsion, something completely against his principles, Charles took control of Lansherr's mind and body and forced him back.

It wasn't until he saw the metal manipulator slammed full force back against the book case that he realized he might have overdone it.

Just a bit.

Lansherr looked probably as stunned as Xavier just then. Though the affect was ruined by the swollen kissable lips and that fair dusting of crimson across his cheeks Charles' cheeks.

"Bravo, Charles." Erik chuckled, clapping his hands as he took a step forward, "Excellent use of your extraordinary talents."

Sensing what the man was up to next, Charles frowned, hand extended as though to stop him, "Erik Lansherr, don't you dare-"

Before Xavier could stop him, Erik growled, "*MY* turn."

Then suddenly the air was forced out of Charles' lungs, as every piece of metal he wore was used to yank him the few feet forcefully into Erik's waiting arms. Muscled arms that immediately wrapped to trap the slimmer of the two against Lansherr's chest.

"Erik-" Charles had a brief second to protest.

Then Erik was all over him. Unlike before, when Charles at least had a few measurements of space, there was virtually none here in the metal manipulator's arms. Every single inch was encompassed by the heat that was purely Erik. Charles' breath hitched when Erik melded their bodies, hooked arm encircling lower on Xavier's back, leaving nothing to the imagination through their layers of clothes. This was Lansherr's plan. To get Charles so overwhelmed with sensation, that he couldn't use his powers, even if he wanted to.

When Charles denied him entry past his clenched lips, Erik growled, dexterous tongue muscling its way in, exploring Charles' depths like he was mining for gold. Charles whimpered in the face of Lansherr's strong will and forceful nature. He could hardly deny Erik at times before, relenting to the typhoon that was Erik Lansherr, a storm front that could not be stopped. How could he in the face of this dark hunger? Something that had clawed its need deep inside Charles himself.

He wanted Erik.

So badly.

With all his body, heart and soul.

Now he was getting the first taste of just how much Erik wanted him as well.


	3. Chapter 3

"You know, the strangest thing happened to me yesterday evening." That smooth voice had the most elegant hint of accusation dressed within its fine layers.

"G-ah!" Charles, who had been leaning against the open door of the fridge -as he was accustomed to be caught doing with frequent midnight escapades- shot bolt upright, utter shock on his features. Though he immediately cleared his throat, feigning calm as he saw the one person he absolutely did NOT want to see leaning casually against the opening of the kitchen area. Taking out the half eaten cake from the fridge, he closed the door and headed towards the island, it's wooden top gleaming invitingly, "Oh? And what strange occurrence was this?"

He cast blue eyes back up when he shouldn't have. Just as Erik had found him marvelously adorable in his startled state, Charles couldn't help but be struck speechless at just how well black turtlenecks gripped Erik's form, fitting the man like a second skin. The fact that he was currently leaning against the doorway, muscled arms crossed over his burly chest, merely enhanced his strength of form. Making Charles' mouth drier than the Sahara, and just glad he had spoken his turn, giving him reprieve to wet his tongue while Erik filled the space.

Erik Lansherr glided through the kitchen, as a panther would through the forest, finding it quite becoming that Charles seemed entirely too fascinated on the half eaten chocolate cake, not having met his eyes for longer than that half second when Lansherr had startled him.

"Well, Charles, for one I awoke in one of your boring book rooms. On the floor."

"Ah, that *is* odd. God forbid you sleep anywhere besides a bed. And in a room full of books, of all things. Dare say I am quite surprised to see you alive." If nothing else, Charles had a knack for letting his mouth run on, especially when nervous.

Erik was not curbed so easily, he paced in front of Charles' current residence at the table as he mentioned, "Precisely, Charles. And I had the largest headache you could possibly dream of."

"Imagine that." Charles tucked busily into the cake, waving the fork at the other standing on the other side of the table, "You must have been dozing, my friend. Perhaps attempting to read one of those books and put yourself into an anti-reading coma. You should really go back to bed Erik. All that exertion must have really done a number on you."

"Hmph." Erik grunted noncommittally, pacing slowing as he stroked his chin, "Funny thing is, I lost my helmet."

Charles barely saved himself from choking, covering it with a large gulp of milk as he stated, "I was not aware you had a bike, Erik."

Erik leveled him with a dry stare, 'You know which helmet.'

"You kept that ratty thing made by the Russians?" Charles frowned, dabbing the edge of his mouth with a napkin, "What ever for?"

"Well, you see Charles, another funny thing, I don't recall being alone in that room, much less falling asleep."

"Oh really?" Charles cleared his throat again, leaning slightly forward as he cradled his chin mainly by his thumb and forefinger, the rest left to curl anxiously around his tense jaw, "Pray tell."

"You see, Charles," Erik leaned over the table, taking Xavier's fork as he speared a piece of cake, watching Charles ever-so-closely as he did so, "I very much recall someone being with me in that very room."

"And who would be lucky enough to share your anti-enthusiasm for books in-" Charles started to joke, trying very much not to watch that mouth take the chocolate morsel whole, fork sliding clean and polished from between those lips.

Erik was watching him like a hawk, as he pointed with the fork, "Excellent question. Why, I believe it was *you* Charles."

Charles laughed, perhaps a little too loudly, as he cast his gaze away from those inquisitive eyes, those murky browns much too intense, "I think I would remember being cooped in a room full of books with you, what with the nonstop complaining. I'm sure you must have been dreaming of the whole incident-"

"Really? Was the most realistic wet dream I've ever had. And we didn't even go all the way yet."

This time Charles really did choke on his milk, spluttering even as Erik watched on in amusement. After a short coughing fit, and a swipe of a now milk covered sleeve, Charles demanded, "I beg your pardon? I-I'm sorry, Erik, wet dream? *ME*? A-and *yet*?"

"Has your extensive vocabulary boiled down to a few words and short phrases?" Lansherr poked fun, leaning lower on the table, chin now propped on the palm of his hand.

Waving it off, Charles demanded, "Just how far were you trying to go? I-in this dream if yours?"

"Depends. Why do you wanna know?" There was that charming grin, teeth gleaming white and deadly. Erik was deriving far too much pleasure from this. Charles was sorely tempted to peek into his mind to see if Erik really knew it wasn't a dream and was just playing with Xavier.

But Erik was too close. Too familiar with the telepath. Could feel even the merest brush of Charles in his head. Could even tell when the Professor was tempted to, if that smug, cocked brow had anything to say about it. Lansherr tapped his temple, "Curious? It's all in here."

"I am most certainly NOT." Charles stated most adamantly, his eyes doing that blinking thing it would he was extremely flustered but fighting not to show it, "Honestly, I don't know what has gotten INto you, Erik."

"C'mon Charles, lighten up. Didn't realize you were such a prude."

"I AM *not* a prude." Charles, taking offense, spluttered.

Lansherr boomed in laughter at that, leaning back from the table to control his fit of joviality. He even had to clutch his side. The look on Charles' face had been priceless.

While Xavier did worry about his friend, he couldn't help cracking a grin at the metal manipulator's freer nature. Never before they had met, had Lansherr laughed so hard. So twisted were his goals in killing Shaw, the sadistic mutant.

Then suddenly Erik hissed, fingers to his temple in pain. Charles was up and at his side in a heartbeat, "Are you all right? What's wrong?"

"Headache, nothing more." Erik grimaced, brow creased as he turned to look down at his comrade.

Fearing he may have done slight damage the other night, Charles' brow furrowed, "Do you mind if I...?"

His fingers wiggled tentatively.

Erik grunted his assent, "Of course. Who needs aspirin when you have a telepath as your nursemaid?"

"I am not." Charles huffed. Shaking his head with a sigh, he closed his eyes, fingers to his temple as he slipped into Erik's mind.

He missed that warm grin that spread across Lansherr's face at the welcome intrusion, but he felt it all the same.

As Charles poked around, careful to tread away from the spots of spiked arousal in the other's mind, Charles inquired briefly, 'You don't happen to feel like skipping around and singing do you...?'

'Like a little girl? No. Why do you ask?' Lansherr sounded suspicious.

'Nevermind.' Charles amended quickly, sorting out the pained nerve connections in the metal bender's mind and carefully repairing them. He really did a number on the man when he freaked out. He felt guilt tugging at him that Lansherr must have been in agony when he awoke from his forced slumber.

He felt Erik studying him, from so close, and regretted he had come right up to the man in his concern. He could have just as easily delved into Erik's mind from his refuge across the table.

'Charles...?' Erik's mental voice sounded concerned and apprehensive.

'Yes...?' Charles, busy fixing the last of the broken nerve endings, asked absentmindedly.

'Did you leave the Manor at all the past few nights?' The tone should have set off warning bells in Xavier's mind.

Too preoccupied, he simply scoffed, 'Of course not. You know I've been far too busy-'

'Then why do you have love marks on your neck?' Erik demanded with a knowing growl.

Finished repairing the damage, it all came to Charles just what grave error he had made in answering, and jumped back into his body with a gasp. Erik was staring at him. Xavier tried to take a step back, but Lansherr grabbed him swiftly by the collar. A strong, yet gentle grasp. He inspected the evidence that had been covered by Charles' high collar.

Erik was anything but a stupid man. He could put two and two together.

Leveling the telepath with a hardened glance, Erik growled, "It was most certainly NOT a dream."

"N-now Erik, don't go jumping to hasty conclusions-" Charles tried to step away, but Erik's grip was unrelenting.

"Charles... did you use your powers on me?" Erik trailed, voice dangerously low.

Charles opened his mouth, tongue ready with a quick lie. But that died in response to Lansherr's fierce glare. His eyes spoke: don't you dare lie to me.

Charles closed his mouth, almost comically, before opening it once more to say, "N-not... exactly." At Erik's demanding look, he reiterated, "Okay, not on purpose, I should say."

That dark smile was the last thing Charles expected, "Bravo Charles. I am impressed. Are you telling me I had THE Charles Xavier so out of sorts he couldn't even control his own powers?"

"Now I-I wouldn't say out of *sorts*." Charles tried to clarify past his nervous stumbling, "More like confused-"

"Turned on?" Erik interjected hopefully.

"-no- and surprised-"

"Pleasantly?"

"No." Charles denied again.

"Lying really isn't your strong suit Charles." Erik admonished. He paused to take in the man before him, pulling closer to ask, "Charles, tell me what is *really* bothering you..."

All joking aside, Xavier considered the man seriously for a moment. Before he could lose his nerve, he swallowed before revealing quietly, "I'm afraid, Erik..."

Lansherr looked flabbergasted. This was the last response he would have considered. Charles did not admit his fears lightly. Or ever, for that instance. He asked dumbly, "Of what, being with a man?"

"No no, I've been with men before." Charles replied, chuckling when he looked up to see a fierce scowl on Lansherr's features.

"No you haven't. Not *YET*." Erik growled, eyes scorching.

"Erik..." Charles pulled back when the other drew closer.

Frustrated, Lansherr demanded softly, "What are you so afraid of, Charles?"

Charles lowered his gaze, eyes staring absently at Erik's turtleneck, teeth worrying his lip in a way that made Erik just want to nip it himself. But this was important. He needed to know, needed to hear just WHAT it was that was keeping the other at such a distance.

With a defeated sigh, Charles raised his gaze slowly, blue meeting slate grey. His voice so soft Lansherr almost couldn't hear him, "I... Erik, I can't lose you..."


	4. Chapter 4

"Charles..." Erik was momentarily speechless. He was struck with an equal sense of awe and sadness. An overwhelming flood of, what was that, love? Could it truly be...?

Lansherr started laughing.

Charles, hurt, frowned and stated sharply, "I am glad I could confide my fears with you, Erik Lansherr. Thank you for showing me your true nature."

"Charles, no you misunderstand. You... Are you really...? Of losing me?"

"I've seen how you work. I sleep with you and you forget about me in the morning." Charles hedged, wary, "That's how it's been with every single person you've slept with, no matter the amount or the length of time, whether it's an hour, a day, or a week."

"...you kept track?" At Charles' irked silence, Lansherr explained, "I am touched, Charles."

"Good. I'm glad. Now that we've embarrassed me enough, will you kindly let go?"

Erik's jovial nature disappeared in a heartbeat. He growled, "Never."

Charles was taken aback at the possessive tone.

"You have eluded me for far too long, Charles. When I said you misunderstood, I meant it. You want to know why I had to fuck so many people? To stop from thinking about you. For wanting *YOU* Charles." Erik paused to take in the shocked look on Xavier's face. His steely eyes traveled with a burning gaze down, then back up Charles' body, pulled close to his own, "But I can't stop, Charles. Thinking. You have been ingrained into every thought, every movement I've had, since the day you dove into the water and saved me. Even with revenge on my mind, you have been at the forefront. If you have any doubts just look. You have unrestricted access. Go ahead, Charles."

Xavier was floored.

Lansherr had a resilience about him that blocked even some of Charles momentary slip ups to delve into the thoughts of others. To actually have permission...

"I don't know Erik. This is not something done lightly..."

"Charles, you threatened to make me think I was some 12 year old girl-"

"Seven." Charles corrected.

"-and you're afraid of getting your feet wet mucking around in my head?"

Charles bristled, "I'm not afraid of that."

Erik pulled him closer, 'til there was scarcely any breath between them, hissing with clenched jaw, "Then DO it, Charles Xavier."

Charles frowned.

"Before I change my mind..." Erik warned.

Erik really knew how to push his buttons. The temptation to explore that hidden depth was just too much. More tantalizing than Xavier's want to stay in the safe confines of friendship.

"You asked for it." Charles groused, fingers raised to his temple.

Erik merely grinned, sensing another victory near.

Charles entered.

And it was like his whole world was aflame.

Want. Need. Desire.

And all for Charles Xavier himself.

He saw a stream of jumbled images. All of himself. Erik watching him.

The first time he touched Erik's mind. A tumult of 'let go's' among the torrent and rush of water. Lansherr's first image of him, obscured by the deep water that threatened to claim him.

Erik's first thought: 'Is he an angel?'

Lansherr's anger as soon as they rose above the water. Anger that Shaw had gotten away. Overridden only by the breathtaking sight of a wet Charles. Erik thought he was dreaming.

In the carrier, both wrapped in damp towels, Erik ignored the beauties that were Moira and Raven, too consumed by the dark haired beauty that had rescued him. The only one daring enough to brave the dark waters, and pull him to safety. Charles was busy rubbing salt water out of his hair, but Erik just kept staring.

At some point, Charles noticed, and gave a shy smirk, thinking the other mad at him. But he sensed something more from Erik, just... refused to see it.

Fast forward to the night he tried to leave. The way Charles stood there, so forlorn. He didn't want Erik to go. Erik knew this. And was almost stubborn enough to leave anyway. But didn't.

Not when he snuck near Charles' window that night and saw the curly-haired youth with a poor pillow in a strangle hold. Sobbing. He knew there was something between them. Knew there was more than Charles let on.

For the first time, Erik put his need to go after Shaw on the back burner, curious as to where this path led.

The night at the strip club, music pumping, feminine bodies gyrating to the beat, dancing enticingly. But Erik kept sneaking peaks at the silent telepath beside him. Watching him like a hawk. Trying to figure out what his type was and getting jealous all the same. When they had Angel in the private booth, all he wanted to do was kick her out and have the bed all to themselves.

Their hands brushed reaching for the same glass, and Erik could've sworn he saw a blush blossom on that innocently wise face. But it was too dark to tell, and Charles had turned away too fast. Little had he known just how fast Xavier's heart beat at that quick touch. How he would have ravaged him then and there had he known.

Riding in the back of the cab with Darwin, Charles had inexplicably fallen asleep on Erik's broad chest, snoring away like the adorable mutt he was. Lansherr brushed his brown curls out of his face, staring at those entirely kissable lips. Darwin made a sound in the front seat, and Erik glared at him through the rear view mirror.

"Dude, didn't see a thing." Darwin said with raised hand.

"That's right you didn't..." Erik growled dangerously.

Charles pulled back to the present, breathless as though he had run a marathon.

"There's more..." Erik said softly. Urging. Promising.

Charles obliged, delving back in.

Dinner with the new recruits. Meeting with Moira and the CIA. And Erik only had eyes for him. He had only returned that night for fear of what the humans would do to him. To take advantage of Charles' naive belief they would all get along.

One of their nights of chess. The way Charles sat with his leg crossed open just so. Hand on his favorite drink of the night. Gin tonic. The game was at a stalemate. Erik just needed a diversion to win.

"Personally, I think men are more beautiful creatures than women." Erik stated matter-of-fact-ly.

Charles spewed his drink, uncrossing his legs to hunch forward and cough, "I'm sorry?"

"Don't tell me you don't agree, Charles." Erik grinned, moving his piece.

Charles was looking, lost, into his half-empty glass. At war, seemingly, with something within.

"Your move, Charles." Erik prompted, not knowing just how sinful he looked in his long-sleeved midnight black turtleneck and tight gray slacks.

Charles swallowed, "Of course."

Needless to say Erik won that match, but daresay wished he had won something much more.

The blinding anger of the metal bender as he controlled the iron bed rails to twist tighter and tighter, cracking the diamond skin of Shaw's precious right hand woman. Nothing and no one ever got through to him when he saw so much red. She had stopped him. When he could have killed Shaw SHE just had to be there.

Then there was that voice.

"*Erik* that's ENOUGH!"

Erik blinked, wrenched back to himself, fury curbed.

'Charles...?' He questioned, recognizing the man through all the boiling madness. Never before had anything brought him back. Not 'til his anger was spent. 'Til something was destroyed, or lay twisted and dying.

The diamond woman was lucky.

"Something tells me she won't be transforming back to diamond form again." Erik growled lowly, though his mind was reeling. How had Charles done that? How had he *reached* him? Made him stop. No one could ever do that. No one. So how had he...? Erik shook the thought, "And if she does, give her a gentle tap."

He couldn't bear the disapproval in Xavier's eyes, and so had left.

How he hated to disappoint the telepath.

Charles saw how Erik looked at him, how he FELT the moment he opened up the brightest corner of Lansherr's mind. Didn't realize that hadn't quite been it. It was second only to the first time they had met, in the dark embrace of the water. How Erik cried not because of the memory, but because of how close Charles had been to discovering it.

Erik LOVED him.

And it frightened Lansherr to no end.

When he had turned the enormous satellite, Erik simply kept thinking how amazing Charles was. How understand and caring. And giving.

And how Erik wished he could give just as much, if not more, back.

Charles rushed back to his body, mind reeling and feeling slightly dizzy. The feel of Erik clouded his senses, the man an emotional storm of desire and pain. He couldn't believe it. This must be a dream. The one man, the one person he wanted...

Wanted him back.

"Charles," Erik pleaded, for once sounding hesitant. Afraid. He released Xavier's collar to grip his shoulders, holding him firmly, "Charles, please I... I need to hear it..."

"Erik..." Charles was touched. This man, this arrogant, selfish man, was asking him for reassurance. Had laid his soul bare. How could Charles refuse. Charles grinned, his voice just as soft, "Of course, Erik. I love you too."

And a smile brighter than the sun itself lit up Erik Lansherr's face.

It warmed Charles to his very core, but there was still a hint of fear curled up in the corner of his mind. Sensing this, Erik ducked his head, chasing the dark glint hiding in the back of the telepath's eye, "What is it, Charles?"

"I still… it's just… as I said before Erik…" Charles had trouble meeting his gaze. Everything he saw, everything he felt. It was so *real*. So touching. But he was human. And was afraid of letting the one person he could, get so close, when there was a possibility of-

"Well, spit it out then." Erik, ever the patient one, demanded.

Charles frowned, meeting that dark gaze as he admitted, "I don't want to start this, and then lose it. Lose you."

The realization struck Erik like a physical thing. And he was speechless. But the man was not known to let the one thing he wanted most slip through his fingers. Not if he could help it.

With the grace of a panther, the metal bender pulled the worried telepath in his arms, trapping him bodily against him. Charles started, feeling the calm and stubborn determination flow easily from that muscled form.

Some would call it foolhardy.

But those eyes spoke differently.

Erik was a survivor of the camps, defender of their kind, unshakeable and stubborn to a fault. He never let anyone close enough within to make him fall.

But fall he did.

For Charles Xavier, Erik had fallen.

Hard.

And with a deep promise, one born out of confidence, a hint of fear, and all of Erik Lansherr, the dark haired man growled, "You won't."

Against all odds, Charles believed him. The road ahead would be difficult. Rocky would be an understatement when describing a relationship with this man. But if there was one thing about Erik that Charles knew, it was this:

Erik Lansherr NEVER broke a promise.

With a hopeful heart, Charles smiled. His heart soared as Erik smiled back.

"Now let's shag." Erik grinned.

"Erik!" Charles admonished, his tone saying it all: 'way to break the moment'.

"What?" Erik shrugged, all innocence, "Don't tell me you weren't thinking it too. Don't need to be a damn telepath to know what you need."

Charles frowned, "And what is that?"

Erik swooped in for a kiss. And because he was Erik, Charles let him. In fact, he rather melted right into those smartly dressed arms.

When Erik pulled back, allowing Charles room to breath and thoroughly enjoying the dazed look on the curly haired man's face, Erik said simply and smugly, "Me."

Charles chuckled, breathing out, "I couldn't agree more, my friend."


	5. Chapter 5

"You, Charles, are the definition of a prude." Erik growled unhappily.

Flashing a smile at the kids trailing behind them, Charles turned back to Lansherr as he hissed, "Not now, Erik."

"Oh, then when, pray tell, Professor?" Erik flapped his arms in exasperation, "When you're busy spoon feeding the children? Or maybe after you're done washing behind their ears and told them their bedtime stories?"

"Ah, Erik, don't pretend you don't love them."

"I don't." Erik retorted shortly, before sidling closer, "*You*, however, are another matter entirely."

"Oh shove off, Erik." Charles smiled, nudging the laughing man away, "We'll discuss this later. Tonight."

"During tea and crumpets?" Erik joked.

"I was thinking more over chess and brandy."

"Ha! Now you're talking, Charles." Erik pulled the shorter man into a forced ruffling of his brown locks, before promptly releasing him, "Knew I loved you for a reason."

Charles just shot him a dirty look, before relenting and laughing as well, combing through his messed locks with one hand, "And here I thought it was just some animal magnetism you had to my boyishly good looks."

"Animal magnetism isn't even the half of it." Erik countered with a low rumble that stoked hot coals within Charles' core. How the man managed to be playful one moment, and then heatedly passionate the next mystified Charles to no end.

With a slow swallow, Charles cleared his throat and admonished, "Not *now* Erik."

Lansherr's response was to throw his head back and laugh, much to the curious looks of the mutant teens behind them.

-o-o-o-

Brandy in hand, Erik had the look of hawk trying to discover the perfect moment to strike, even lounging back as he was on the plush armchair, ankle overlapping carelessly on his other knee.

Charles, on the other hand, felt like a jumbled wreck of nerves, hoping desperately it didn't show. Though from the new smirk on Lansherr's lips, he most definitely failed at that aspect.

Erik took a long sip from his elegant glass, watching Charles over the rim of it as he did so.

"Charles?" He finally broke the silence.

"Hmm?" Charles drew out of his inner musings, blinking as though he had just awoke, "What was that?"

"Stop fidgeting."

"Fidge-? I'm not fidgeting." Charles said incredulously, even as he stopped doing so after that amused command, crossed leg stilling.

"All right, whatever you say, Professor." Lansherr chuckled, taking another drink. Setting his glass aside, Erik uncrossed his legs to hunch forward, fingertips steepled as he leaned elbows on spread knees, "So tell me, Charles. Do you agree?"

"Agree?" Xavier, set on edge by Erik's stance as much as his inquiry, "About what?"

"That you, my friend, are the epitome of a prude."

"I am not a-" Charles disagreed, uncrossing his leg likewise to lean forward, "I will have you know, I have dated and slept with many partners during the course of my life."

"Just not me." Erik raised a brow, leaning more forward to move his pawn, "Tell me Charles, after a whole week of knowing, why is that?"

"I- well there is a perfectly rational explanation- and- and it's... uh..." Charles stumbled over his reply. Leave it to Lansherr to move right to the point. The inscrutable man always had a way with tipping the usually levelheaded telepath off balance.

Erik cocked his head to the side, reclining back in his seat after his moment of observation, revealing, "Charles, do I intimidate you?"

"Wha- no. No that's not it." Charles answered much too fast, clearing his throat as he moved his pawn decisively, answering in more solid tones, "No, Erik. You do not."

"Not very convincing, Charles." Lansherr chuckled.

Charles brow furrowed, he shot a glare over the chess pieces at his opponent, "Your move, Lansherr."

"Don't mind if I do." Erik smirked.

He stood.

Charles gawked as the man swept the table clear to the side of the room, chess pieces jostled, but intact. As Erik stepped forward in the now vacated space, Charles scooted back into his seat. Realizing there was no escape there, the telepath vaulted backwards over the side or the arm rest, stumbling in his haste to create some distance between them.

"E-Erik, what are you doing?" Charles demanded, hand raised as if to stop the other.

Calmly stalking the other around the chair, Erik inquired, "What are *you* doing, Charles?"

Charles sidestepped to keep the harmless furniture between them, "Staying away from you, obviously."

Frankly, he was surprised the metal bender hadn't made a move sooner.

Erik's sense of control had grown.

But it was not perfect.

"Why is that, Charles? I *do* intimidate you, don't I?" Erik grinned toothily, canines gleaming in the light of the fireplace.

Stubbornly, Charles stopped his backpedaling, shifting his feet as he crossed his arms, rolled up sleeves tight around his tense forearms, "You do not."

His heart pulsed with each step that drew Lansherr nearer.

"Ah, Charles, your ego always did get the best of you." Erik drawled, halting his movements only when he was at the telepath's front, mirroring crossed arms. He had stopped only when he knew he cut off Charles' routes of escape.

Realizing stopping may not have been the best move, Charles buried his anxieties and simply met the stubborn man head on, "And you always were too impulsive, my friend."

Erik took a step closer, leaning an arm against the top of the couch, penning the curly haired man in, "One of us has to be."

Charles glanced down at the hand on the couch behind him, following that impeccably dressed arm back up to those slate fired eyes. He felt his breath catch in his throat.

"Tell me Charles. How were your previous bedmates? Toppers? Or bottomers?"

Charles swallowed, "I don't see how that's-"

"Any of my business?" Erik cut him off, drawing closer. His mere presence was spinning the telepath off kilter. He could tell. And it just made him smile, "I do believe it is *very* much my business, Charles."

"I have never allowed anyone else full control." Charles admitted slowly, blue eyes trailing to the side.

"I see." Erik replied, leaning in until their lips were just breaths apart, "I believe it is your turn to 'let go' Charles."

Erik was so close. Lansherr's metallic and masculine scent was a tangible taste on Charles' tongue. After the revelation of the week prior, and the instances before then, Charles had been craving the man like no other. More so than he had in the past. But he just could not, for some reason, allow the other in.

With all his relationships, whether it be short flings or acquaintances, or long term friendships, he had been the one in control. The one calling all the shots. Had all the cards. Lansherr was something else. He threatened the peaceful hold Charles always had on everything and everyone. This troublesome man threatened to loosen Charles' grip on reality and life itself. He needed to take the plunge.

His body wanted this.

His mind, however, had other thoughts.

"Not possible Erik." Charles replied stubbornly.

Erik's jaw set. His body burned for the telepath. The one man who was able to break through his shattered exterior. So solid. So dangerously rough and unforgiving. And Charles had broken through, regardless. They had gone too far. Were too deep for Xavier to back out now.

He could feel, could *see* the other attempting to retreat. As he had tried after that fateful day at the beach.

No.

No he could not let Charles get away.

Not again.

"Charles..." Erik growled, "NOT good enough.

Charles should have been prepared. Should have some sort of defense.

But Erik was like a magnetic inferno. Not to be turned away nor ignored. And his lips were no exception to that rule.

Charles found himself pressed against Lansherr's muscular chest, the feel of Erik against him incomparable to any sensation he felt before. The warmth of the metal bender consumed him, the couch behind nearly nonexistent, merely an object to lean against during the welcome onslaught.

Charles fought him at first. He struggled, even as he craved it more than air itself. Erik saw through the ruse. Saw the fear and determination. And instead held fast, pinning that wily body against his, deepening the kiss as he devoured Charles, body and soul. Xavier breathed deep through his nose, melting into the kiss even as a muscular arm at his back pressed him more fully into the solid form of Erik Lansherr. He could feel a hardness pressing against him, and much to his lack of control, could feel himself hardening in kind.

Erik pulled back, pleased, "And here I thought you weren't having fun."

"Erik," Charles growled, leveling the taller man with a warning glance, "You must stop this."

"Hm, let me think about that one, Charles..." Erik smirked, trailing nips and kisses down Charles' clothed form. He flicked his wrist, unbuckling the telepath's belt and unzipping his pants in one smooth motion. As he glanced up at those disbelieving eyes, whipping the previously stolen belt to shackle the man's hands behind his back, Erik finished his reply with a resolute, "NO."

The maddening metal bender breathed hot air across the tent in those revealing silky black boxers, and Charles trembled with barely restrained reserve, "Erik..."

Charles' own breath hitched as his boxers were torn down, exposing him to the heated air around them, "Erik, please..."

Erik felt himself grow harder within his own confines, throwing a dark glance up at the nervous telepath, "How I do love it when you beg, Charles..."

Urging himself to not be so evident in his arousal, Charles hissed, "Please *stop* Erik."

"Not a chance, Charles." Lansherr growled, "Now be a good chap and cum hard in my mouth. I want every. Last. Drop."

Charles nearly came right there, the desire and lust fully evident in the man's steel eyes. Large hands gripped his hips, thumbs teasing under the curve of his hip bones. The want and need crashed in waves against Xavier's mental barrier, any wall Lansherr had set up to keep his thoughts hidden, fully down and as exposed as Charles was in that moment. Charles was drowning in it, fighting off the blissful temptation of just giving in.

He glared sternly down at the crouching man, "Erik- gah!"

Magneto swallowed him whole.

Charles spasm end at the sensation, that hot mouth wrapping superbly around his own shaft had his knees weak and his body jerking at the indescribable sensation. He barely caught himself back against the couch, body ready to just keel over.

Erik worked him like a madman. His tongue too dexterous for its own good. Charles cried out, head thrown back in pleasure-filled denial.

'D-damn it Erik!' Charles mentally reprimanded the other.

'Oh Charles, you can't tell me you're not enjoying this.' Erik smirked in reply, slurping loudly in emphasis.

Charles' knees nearly buckled once more, the telepath hissing in muted response.

'It is NOT a matter of enjoyment Erik -ah!- it is matter of principal!'

'Please Charles, *enlighten* me.' Erik replied dryly, choosing that moment to hollow out his cheeks.

Charles was dizzy with emotion and sensation, heat vibrating intensely throughout his body. Pulsating. He fought the strong urge to cream himself into Lansherr's mouth with his mere resolve itself. Trying hard to focus, Charles shuddered and replied, 'We. Cannot. Do this Erik.'

'WHY?' Erik growled, the extra vibrations spiking heat and pleasure through the stubborn telepath.

'I *will* fight you on this, Erik.' Charles replied stubbornly.

'Then this, dear friend, will be a fight you. WILL. Lose.' Erik disclosed with such certainty and conviction, it gave the telepath a hopeless insight.

Was Erik right? 

'Charles...' Erik drawled, mouth currently full of the stubborn telepath's captive member, 'if you just admit-'

'What, that you're INSANE? Gladly.' Charles rebuked dryly, bound hands struggling to grasp the back of the couch behind him, struggling to stay on his own two feet.

'No Charles. That you are afraid.'

'Of what?' Charles snapped.

'Why, of being with *me* Charles...'

Xavier felt his breath stop. No. He wasn't.

He couldn't be...

'Explain.' Charles demanded.

'Little Mystique let me in on your little secret, Charles.' Erik drawled knowingly, 'You have *never* been in a real relationship. Nothing longer than a one nighter. Or a short coffee date.'

'And you have?' Charles retorted incredulously.

'Now let's not play this game, Charles. Of course I haven't. The same as you, everyone else has bored me. I may not find out every single detail about someone on a first date or night like you can, Xavier, but I have my ways.' Magneto admonished.

'I thought we've already discussed this.' Charles strained mentally, fighting his body's natural urge with the sinfully tactful mouth and tongue that pushed him to the brink.

'Mmm, yes. So just let go, Charles. It is your turn, after all.' Erik said shortly.

Charles flashed back to the water. The first time they met. The trust that eventually surfaced in those hurt and pained eyes.

Suddenly it all clicked.

In his own roundabout way, Erik was asking Charles to trust him.

Even under the lust, under the clever confidence and amazing skill, Charles finally sensed it. Erik waiting with bated breath. For the acceptance, for the love that had been so recently promised.

With a shaky exhale, Charles released his tense hold on his breaking control, frowning as he said loudly, "I'm not bottoming, Erik."

Realizing what this meant, blunt statement aside, Erik's eyes smirked up at the curly haired man.

His eyes said Charles would not be sorry. Not for giving him this chance. For relinquishing his ever present control. But his mind smirked as Erik growled, 'Only because you haven't been bedded by ME yet.'

Before Charles had the chance to make a smart rebuttal, Erik chose this moment to completely deep throat him, wet heat enveloping that sensitive shaft with just the right pressure, and the telepath could not help but come with the man's name spilling from his lips. Even as a blinding white enveloped his senses, all the tight heat curling and releasing from his core, seed spurting into that smirking mouth, Charles felt a calm descend on his rapidly decreasing mental faculties.

Perhaps letting go wouldn't be so bad after all. If this was how considerate Lansherr was without penetration, he could only imagine how it must be to be fucked by the suave man.

Of course, he didn't have to let Erik know he had come to this conclusion yet.

Not that Erik wouldn't figure it out eventually.

He did enjoy chess, after all.

Something only proven as the metal bender stood after tucking Charles back in and fixing his trousers. He wiped any remaining evidence that hadn't been swallowed in that talented mouth with the back of his arm.

Fixing Charles with a knowing gaze, Erik said boldly, "Check…mate."

And Charles did not refute it.


End file.
